Coming Together
by Nyiestra
Summary: My version of how Jack and Doug got together. Probably slightly AU, only slightly. Updated 9.9.05! Really!
1. Unfavorable Circumstances

Title: Coming Together  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Dawson's Creek. I just play with them from time to time.  
  
Synopsis: My version of how Jack and Doug got together.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Warning: Some violence, references to adult subject matter, homosexuality.  
  
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Chapter 1: Unfavorable Circumstances  
  
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Jack McPhee sighed as he left the school building. Finally! This was the fourth night in a row he'd left the school after eight o'clock, and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep. But he knew that wouldn't be the case. There was just still too much he needed to do. But that work could be done on his laptop at home, in comfortable warmth of his apartment.  
  
Thinking of warmth made him shiver. As he turned the collar on his coat up, he was forced to admit just how much he hated the cold. What he wouldn't give for spring to come! Of course, there was no use in thinking about spring now, in the middle of November.  
  
He reached his car and slipped the key into the lock. It wasn't as if he really thought anyone was going to break into his car here, but it was hard to break the habit he'd developed in New York. He let go of the key for a moment and leaned against the car. "Maybe I should just move in here," he muttered aloud. "These fourteen-hour days are-" He broke off, hearing a noise somewhere behind him.  
  
Dropping his bag to the wet ground, he spun around. "Who's there?" His only answer was a strange feeling - anxiety? dread? - that washed over him. Jack turned back to his car, fumbling for the keys that were still in the door.  
  
Just as he found them, he heard footsteps behind him. But before he could turn around, he felt something hit the back of his legs, making his knees buckle. He fell to the pavement, hitting his chin on the car door and landing on his side. He just had time to register the pain of his face scraping against the rough ground before the beating started.  
  
The first kick connected with his stomach. Gasping, he doubled over in pain, only to arch back as another blow caught him in the back. He felt several more well aimed kicks, too numerous to even register where on his body he was being hit. In a last ditch effort to protect himself, he threw his arms around his head, trying to protect his head and face from their blows and the ground. The effort was to know avail. One more kick connected with Jack's already throbbing jaw. His head snapped back, cracking into the ground, and Jack didn't feel anything anymore.  
  
*********************************  
  
Pacey swore under his breath as he looked at the still form of his best friend in the hospital bed. His face was a massive bruise - where he wasn't scraped to hell, probably from connected with the surface of the parking lot. His arm had been set in a cast. His leg, thankfully not broken, though bruised to hell, is bandaged and suspended. Where the blanket rests, halfway up his chest, the bandages the doctors applied to help with his broken ribs are visible.  
  
Stepping into the room, Pacey sees the stitches in his forehead, and remembers being told there are identical - if more numerous - ones on the back of his head, where it apparently hit the ground. "Damn," he muttered again.  
  
"He'll be all right," a voice said gently behind him. Pacey turned to face his brother, Doug, who was the sheriff in Capeside.  
  
"I know. He's been through worse."  
  
Doug frowned. That was something he definitely hadn't heard about. But he doubted Pacey felt like talking about it. He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "How are you holding up?"  
  
Pacey shrugged. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"  
  
"Because you're the one who found him like that."  
  
"So?"  
  
"So, finding your best friend unconscious, beaten, in a dark parking lot isn't exactly your run of the mill day."  
  
"I'll deal with it, Doug."  
  
*********************************  
  
Jack opened his eyes slowly and, as the room swam in front of him, immediately wished he hadn't. But he didn't close them. Blinking rapidly, he struggled to bring the room into focus. He wanted to know where he was.  
  
Antiseptic smell. Steady, rhythmic beeping. Nearly silent, except for muffled voices outside the room. A hospital.  
  
Why was he-? He moved his arm and groaned in pain. Suddenly, the memories of the attack out by his car came flooding back.  
  
He felt his body tense and closed his eyes against the images that assaulted him. Suddenly, he was no longer in the hospital bed. He was in the school parking lot, being beaten all over again. He struggled against his attackers, trying desperately to shield himself from their blows. "No. No, please," he whispered, his voice hoarse.  
  
Just as suddenly, he heard voices and felt hands on him. But this touch was gentle, almost soothing. The voices he recognized, though he couldn't place them at first.  
  
"Jack," someone said, sounding far away. "Come on, man, it's all right. You're safe."  
  
Slowly, Jack opened his eyes again, and was able to put a face to the voice.  
  
"Pacey?" he whispered.  
  
"Yeah, its' me, man. And Doug's here too."  
  
"Doug?"  
  
"Yeah. My brother - Deputy Doug?"  
  
"Sheriff," another voice corrected. The other man stepped forward so Jack could see him.  
  
Pacey waved dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your newfound importance is not at issue here. We are trying to find out who used poor Jack as a punching bag."  
  
"Yes, we are, and on that note, I think it would be better if I spoke to Jack alone?" Doug said. There was no annoyance in his voice - he knew his brother was worried about his friend. Doug glanced at Jack. "That okay with you, Jack?" There was definitely fear in the younger man's eyes.  
  
"Uh, yeah. Something tells me you're not planning on beating the hell out of me," Jack said weakly.  
  
"No, you aren't the one I'm considering doing that to," Doug said darkly.  
  
The out-of-character comment earned him a quizzical glance from Pacey, but the younger Witter didn't say anything about it. Instead he said, "I'll be outside." Then he patted Jack's leg and left.  
  
After Pacey was gone, Doug pulled a chair closer to Jack's bed. "It's good to see you again, Doug."  
  
"You too. Though I wish it wasn't under such unfavorable circumstances." He smiled at Jack. "All right, can you tell me what happened?"  
  
Haltingly, Jack related everything he could remember, from leaving the school to the last thing he remembered - the blow that had left him unconscious. To Doug's dismay, his memories were vague at best.  
  
"So you never saw them?" the officer asked.  
  
Jack shook his head slowly, and grimaced at the waves of pain and nausea that washed over him. "No, and they never spoke, not once."  
  
"No idea if they were kids or adults?"  
  
"I'd like to think that the adults in this town are above that sort of thing. But no, I have no idea."  
  
"Know of anything who has something against you?"  
  
Jack stared at him, then gave him a sardonic smile. "Think about who you're talking to, Doug, and then reconsider your question."  
  
Doug looked chastised. "I'm sorry. I had, uh, forgotten."  
  
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You'd forgotten? Wish everyone else would."  
  
"Yeah, I can imagine."  
  
"How did I get here, to the hospital I mean?"  
  
"Well, Pacey went by your place. When your landlord said you weren't there, and hadn't been since you left for work, he figured you were still at the school. So he went there, planning on dragging you out for a break, whether you liked the idea or not. He got there, saw your car, and parked near it. As he got out, he saw the damage, and then he found you."  
  
Jack shook his head, and groaned, making a mental note not to do that again. "Wait a second. What damage?"  
  
"Your car."  
  
"My car? My car was fine."  
  
Doug raised an eyebrow. "Then they must have stuck around after attacking you and done the same to your car."  
  
"How bad?"  
  
"Every pane of glass has been shattered, and the body has more dents than any wreck I've ever seen. And where there was actually an intact surface left, they spray painted a few choice epithets."  
  
"Terrific," Jack muttered. "Oh, and by the way, I think I've figured out where Pacey gets his tactful manner."  
  
Doug gave him a half-smile. "Sorry."  
  
"Don't worry about it. But since you're in the mood to be brutally honest and blunt, tell me this. Do you think you're actually going to be able to catch whoever attacked me?"  
  
Doug hesitated. "I don't know. There really isn't a lot to go on. The best I can hope for now is that someone slips up and starts bragging, and that it gets back to me. Or to Pacey." He ran a hand through his short hair. "There's one other possibility, but I'd rather have these guys get away than have it happen."  
  
Jack stared at him. He couldn't imagine what Doug could be talking about. "Explain, please."  
  
"They could come after you again," the sheriff said softly.  
  
Jack stared at him. That thought definitely had not crossed his mind. "Do you - do you really think they will?"  
  
"That depends. At this point, I don't know if this attack was a warning for you to get out of town, or if it was an attempt to kill you. I'm guessing they weren't trying to kill you, because if they were, quite frankly, you wouldn't be here now. You were unconscious, and if they wanted you dead, they'd have done it. But if it was just a warning, and you don't leave-"  
  
"They might decide to give me another warning," Jack said, his voice barely a whisper. "Or to finish what they started."  
  
His voice broke on the last word, and Doug saw, again, real fear in the younger man's eyes. He also noticed that Jack was shaking slightly. He moved from the chair to the edge of the bed and rested a hand on Jack's shoulder. "I won't let that happen, Jack." He tore a page out of the book he'd been making notes in, and scribbled something on it. "This is my cell phone number. If anything happens, call me right away. I always have it on."  
  
"Will do, Doug," Jack mumbled. He looked up at Doug. "When can I get out of here?"  
  
"Probably tomorrow, but only the doctor can say for sure. Technically, I wasn't supposed to come in and talk to you until he'd seen you but I didn't feel like waiting."  
  
"Now I know where Pacey gets that, too."  
  
Doug shook his head. "Stop comparing me to that kid. That's the last thing my reputation needs." He smiled at Jack, and was rewarded with a smile in return. "I'm going to fill out a report, and I'll see you tomorrow to have you sign it."  
  
"Thanks, Doug. Bye."  
  
"Bye." 


	2. A Midnight Caller

Title: Coming Together  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Dawson's Creek. I just play with them from time to time.  
  
Synopsis: My version of how Jack and Doug got together.  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Warning: Some violence, references to adult subject matter, homosexuality.  
  
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Chapter 2: A Midnight Caller  
  
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A week after the attack, Jack lay awake in bed. He'd been back to school for three days now, always escorted by either Pacey or Doug. He thought back to the day he'd gone back.  
  
When he stood up in front of the class, he'd been well aware of the gasps of surprise from some of his students, and the knowing looks on other faces. Though that didn't mean that they had been involved, just that they'd heard what had happened. Which didn't surprise him in the least - news had traveled fast in Capeside back when he was in high school, and things hadn't changed much in the time he'd been away from the small town.  
  
His mind drifted back to the present and he sighed. He'd be lucky if he got three hours of sleep tonight. Since the attack he'd had a hard time falling asleep because every time he closed his eyes he was assaulted by memories. Memories from that cold night a week ago, and another night years before.  
  
He shook off that thought. No, he definitely didn't want to go there. He refocused on his current problem - sleep. Once he finally did manage to get to sleep he was, without fail, awakened by his memories, in the form of nightmares. He shook his head. This had to stop. Maybe he'd see about getting sleeping pills.  
  
He glanced over at the clock and sighed. Just after midnight. Morning - and the comfort of daylight - was still hours away. He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Maybe a glass of water would help. Somehow. Maybe.  
  
Just as he stood up, he heard a thump downstairs, and froze. Again, he shook his head. "You're imagining things, McPhee. Chill out. He took a step toward the door and heard another noise. No, he was definitely not imagining things. He spun around and grabbed the cell phone off his nightstand. Quickly punching in the speed dial number for Doug's cell, he hit send and held the phone to his ear.  
  
Doug picked up on the second ring. "Witter."  
  
"Doug, I - it's Jack."  
  
The Sheriff was awake instantly. "What's up, Jack?"  
  
"There's someone in the house, Doug."  
  
Doug could hear the panic in his voice. "I'm on my way, Jack."  
  
"What do I do, Doug?"  
  
"You're on your cell, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Hide somewhere. Under the bed, in a closet, in the bathroom. Does your bathroom have a lock?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Go there and lock the door, keep the phone with you, and don't hang up." Jack could hear the sound of a door slamming shut. "I want to be able to know right away if anything happens."  
  
"All - all right," Jack stammered. In the background, he heard an engine start.  
  
"I'm in my car, Jack. I'll be right there. Two minutes."  
  
"I'm scared shitless, Doug." Silence. "Doug?" Jack whispered fiercely, suddenly afraid that the sheriff had hung up.  
  
"I'm here, Jack. I know you're scared. Look, I'm right down the street. I'm gonna hang up now. Stay where you are, don't open the door, unless you know it's me."  
  
"All right." Jack heard the sudden silence that told him that the connection had ended.  
  
He inched over to the door and pressed his ear to it, trying desperately to hear what was going on in his house. After a few moments of silence, he heard a crash, and then muffled shouting, followed by another crash. Jack shrank back against the wall, wondering when he'd become such a weakling - and lost control of his life.  
  
In the silence that followed, he watched the minutes roll by on the dimly lit window on his cell phone, and grew consistently more frightened. Then he heard footsteps in his bedroom and his heart nearly stopped.  
  
"Jack?"  
  
Jack jumped to his feet and fumbled with the lock on the door. He flung it open, and went limp with relief when he saw Doug. "God, Doug!"  
  
Doug caught his arm and guided him over to the bed. "He got away, Jack."  
  
Jack stared at him, trembling. "Got away?" he echoed.  
  
"I'm sorry, Jack. He heard me come in and took off running. I never had a chance to catch up."  
  
"Damn." Jack stared at him. "What am I gonna do?"  
  
"You, my friend, are going to get some clothes together and anything else you need, go with me to the station to fill out a statement, and then you're coming home with me and stay with me and Pacey until we catch whoever's after you."  
  
"Doug, I can't do that."  
  
"You aren't safe here. That's been made painfully clear."  
  
"I can't impose on you and Pacey like that. You barely have room for the two of you as it is."  
  
Doug shrugged. "I'll give you Pacey's room. He's practically living at the Icehouse anyway. Now get your stuff together."  
  
Jack cast another glance at Doug, but finally gave up and walked over to his dresser. With shaking hands he pulled a few things out of the various drawers and tossed them on the bed. Then he walked past Doug to the bathroom and picked up a few necessities. Still moving on autopilot, he dropped those things on the bed too, then passed by Doug again to get to his closet. Jack picked up the duffel bag that was sitting on the floor.  
  
He turned and started to walk toward Doug yet again, but somehow, probably because he was shaking so badly, managed to trip over his own feet. Doug stepped forward quickly, catching him before he fell.  
  
As soon as Jack felt Doug's hands on him, he completely lost what little was left of his composure. The tears that he'd been holding back for the last week fell freely now, soaking Doug's sweatshirt.  
  
Slowly, Doug guided him over to the bed, never letting go of him. He'd been waiting for this breakdown. Jack was just dealing with too much to keep it all inside forever. They sat down, his arms still around the younger man.  
  
"It's going to be all right, Jack. I promise you, it'll be all right." He rubbed Jack's back gently, and just held him until the other man had regained control.  
  
"I'm sorry," Jack murmured, pulling away from Doug.  
  
"It's okay," Doug said softly. "You needed that." He looked into Jack's eyes and saw none of the spirit there that he usually associated with the other man. He just looked.beaten. He hugged Jack tightly and stood. "Come on. Screw the report. I'll take you down to the station in the morning. You need sleep."  
  
Jack looked up at him. "Thanks, Doug. You don't have to do this."  
  
"I know. Come on. Let's pack your stuff and get out of here." 


	3. The Worst of It's Passed

**A/N: **Look! I didn't forget. Well, I did. I admit. And then I found all the stuff I'd written before and I've got, well, a few chapters written up, so I promise there will be more. I'll try not to let it lag again. Really. Forgive me?

**Disclaimer: **As much as I wish I owned Jack and Doug, I don't. And I don't own the rest of Dawson's Creek either.

* * *

**Chapter 3: The Worst of It's Passed**

Jack preceded Doug into his apartment, standing awkwardly off to the side as Doug tossed his duffel bag onto a chair. Turning the light on, Doug looked around, then glanced back at Jack. "You're still injured… you can sleep in my room, and I'll take the couch. Tomorrow we can talk to Pacey and figure out what to do from now on."

"Talk to Pacey and figure out what?" he heard his younger brother's sleepy voice and saw the hall light flip on. Pacey came into the living room, almost tripping over his own feet, clad in nothing but his boxer shorts, and blinked. "Jack? What are you doing here, man?"

"Had a… a little problem," Jack stammered.

"Someone broke into his place, probably looking to finish what they started," Doug supplied. "I thought it would be safer if he stayed here for a while."

Pacey blinked again. "Uh… okay. I'm…" he jerked a hand toward his bedroom. "I'm just… I'm gonna go back to sleep, kay?"

Despite everything, Doug laughed. "Yeah, Pace. Sorry we woke you."

He waved them off. "Yeah, yeah, no problem," he mumbled and shuffled off.

Doug shook his head, then looked over at Jack, who looked to be some combination of amused and embarrassed. "I really don't want to impose on you."

Shaking his head, Doug shot him a look. "We've been over this, five times at your place and another eight on the way here. Your place is not safe, Jack. This is. It's only until we catch whoever's after you."

Jack frowned, but finally nodded. "I do appreciate it. I don't want you to think I don't. I just… I don't like having to rely on people like this. I don't like to take advantage of people."

"Have you changed at all since high school?" Doug asked suddenly. He and his younger brother hadn't exactly been the best of friends when Pacey was still in school, but he'd picked up on a few things. Listening to Jack now reminded him of a lot of what he'd heard from Pacey then. A second after the words came out, though, he wished he could take them back.

Jack's face became a dark mask and he turned away. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "You have no idea."

Doug shifted uncomfortably, sensing that there was something he wasn't entirely aware of, if at all. "People change a lot, even in a year or two," he said quietly.

"You have no idea," Jack repeated.

-------------------------

Jack rolled over in bed, wincing at the pain in his ribs, and looked around Doug's bedroom. Being in herereminded him of the little crush he'd developed in high school. He'd never told Pacey, but he'd kind of liked Doug. He'd never expected to end up in the other man's bed, though. And definitely not like this.

He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come, but opened them again almost instantly. He'd known he wasn't going to fall asleep at home and now every time he closed his eyes, he could hear the sounds of his attacker as if the man was actually in Doug's living room right now.

The fact that the Sheriff was sleeping on the couch, his gun six inches from his hand, should have been a consolation, but it wasn't. What if Doug slept a little too soundly? What if his assailant, having lost the lead pipe, had a gun himself? What if Doug just didn't move quickly enough?

What if Pacey got up at the wrong time?

That was a new thought. He'd been worried about imposing, but he hadn't thought before about the possibility of either Doug or Pacey getting hurt.

"Terrific," he said aloud. "One more thing for me to freak myself out about." He rolled onto his side and punched his pillow. Well, Doug's pillow.

There was a knock at the door and Jack jumped a foot off the bed. "Jack?" he heard Pacey's voice through the door.

"Yeah, Pacey?"

"You okay?" His friend opened it slowly, sticking his head in.

"Yeah. Did I wake you again? Sorry."

"Nah. I couldn't get back to sleep." Pacey came into the room all the way, shutting the door behind him, and sat on the bed, leaning back on his hands. "You okay?" he asked again.

"I don't know." Jack sighed, laying back down. "I'm scared."

"Well, you should be." Pacey frowned. "I've never seen Doug this worried about something. I mean, I've seen him serious…" Pacey rolled his eyes. "_Boy_ have I seen him serious. But… y'know, if you coulda seen his face when you called tonight… At least, I assume it was when you called, because he bolted out of here so fast I expected him to take the wall with him."

Jack sat up snickered at the image, picturing Doug that worked up. He'd watched the brothers together; he'd seen the kind of stress Pacey put Doug through. He could imagine Doug getting that strung out over Pacey – hell, he'd seen it firsthand – but not over him.

Of course, Doug had always been devoted to his work, which probably explained why he was taking this so seriously. "Doug's a good cop."

"He's a good guy."

"There was a time I'd have fallen over to hear you say that," Jack replied, and Pacey nodded.

"There was a time _I'd_ have fallen over to hear myself say that," he retorted, but grinned.

They sat in companionable silence for a while until finally Pacey broke it. "I mean it, Jack. Are you okay? I mean, aside from being scared…"

He trailed off, and it finally dawned on Jack what he was trying to ask. "Yeah. I'm… yeah. Can't say I haven't thought about it." He rolled his eyes. "_Boy_ have I thought about it. But I'm okay for now."

"If, if you're ever not, you know you can call me, whenever. Right?" Pacey looked anxious and Jack wondered if his friend honestly thought that he _didn't_ know he could call him.

"Of course I do. And I will. But I'm really doing okay." Jack paused. "I haven't even taken the pain pills they gave me."

Pacey raised an eyebrow. "Yeesh. Even Dougie isn't that uptight."

"Yeah, well, your brother isn't…" he trailed off, his face flushing, and glanced toward the door for a moment before looking back to Pacey, who had his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

"Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just… if you're hurting, man…"

"The worst of it's passed."

"Jack."

"It is!"

Pacey regarded him doubtfully but finally shrugged. "Okay, if you say so."

"I do. Look, Pacey, I'm not completely healed, and I admit it would kill my back – and possibly the rest of me – to try to sleep on the couch, which is the only reason I took Doug up on his offer. But there's no way I'm taking anything addictive unless I absolutely have to. I've come too far to take a chance like that."

Finally, his friend smiled at him. "Glad to hear you say that. Really."

"You sound like you didn't expect to."

"Well, there was a time I wouldn't have."

"And now?"

Pacey's face was serious. "Like you said, you've come pretty damn far, Jack."

"If you hadn't been there…"

"Someone else would have found you."

"I'm not talking about in the parking lot, Pace. I'm talking about everything before that, while I was still in New York…" he trailed off. "I don't think I could've done it without you."

"You could have."

"I don't know. It was hard even with you and Andie and Jen…"

"Everything's hard. Just means it's worth it."

Jack chuckled. "You? Waxing philosophical?"

"You aren't the only one who's come a long way."

Jack leaned back and rolled over, then rolled back and sat up. "Doug asked me if I'd changed at all since high school. Kinda caught me by surprise."

"Shouldn't. Doug's got a pretty good eye; he watched us like a hawk. I always thought he was just looking for something to hold over my head. God knows he did that enough. But he was really just trying to keep all of us out of trouble."

"All of us?" Jack asked.

"Okay, me." Pacey grinned. "It worked, too."

Jack snickered. "Sometimes," he pointed out, and Pacey's grin widened. He shoved Pacey in the shoulder. "Get some sleep, man."

"You too. You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I'll fall asleep. Eventually."

-------------------------

Jack walked out of the police station a step in front of Doug, stopping next to the Sheriff's car. Sagging against it, he raked a hand through his hair. "Who knew filling out paperwork could be so…"

"Draining?" Doug asked him. "If it's any consolation, most victims have a hard time when it comes time to file the report on what happened."

"Don't call me that."

Doug started at his tone, confusion in his eyes. "Call you what?"

"A… victim. Don't call me that."

"Jack, it's just a term. We have perpetrators and victims. It doesn't mean anything."

"Yes it does," Jack said quietly. He shivered and shook his head. "Do you think you could drop me off at your place? I don't feel like going to school."

"Saying that, you ever feel like you're ten years old again?"

"All the time." Jack finally cracked a smile and Doug hid his own.


End file.
